It's been a strange week. Summer is definitely over. Trust me. It may climb back into the 80s, but once you ascertain that the heater works in your new vehicle out of actual need for heat and not out of test driving need, you can't take it back. On the plus side, I didn't have to buy a new tire for said new vehicle this week. On the down side, there is a non-zero chance that someone may be messing with my tires because I'm in Ravens territory. That... blows, quite frankly. Something to keep an eye on, I suppose.
In the meantime, I'm doing a massive amount of training at work, breaking in a gift from an overgenerous benefactor, and getting ready for an actual vacation. Well, an abbreviated vacation. Down the Banks. Here I come. Think about them every time I'm on the water. Why yes, I may have looked at navigation charts and wondered how one would traverse the Chesapeake and Albemarle Canal on windpower alone. Daydreams are fun.
I spent so much time getting my tire looked at on Saturday that I missed my sailing class. Sunday, it was 65 and raining. The bay was downright toasty compared to the boat, and I got truly seasick for the first time in my life. How embarrassing. On the plus side, I still got my little red book (like a small craft sailing cert). And because the wind gusted to 20-22 knots during some of our classes, we got a big and small air signoff. Rock on. Though I still would rather another course before I would trust myself to spend much time on the water without an instructor. Sailors are that special kind of outdoor sports crazy that I've observed among serious cavers and climbers. I wonder how well my garden-variety eccentricity would mesh. I'm not a racer, definitely more of a cruiser. I think I need to find a sugar daddy down here with a nice sloop or cutter or ketch to try out. You know, so I can decide what kind I'm going to buy. Eventually. After a little place on the water. Priorities, people.